night is young and the music's high
by seekingtomorrow
Summary: 3: "Jaime Lannister was everything Theon had ever wanted to be. He was a ladies' man, he was athletic, and he had flowing blond hair that managed to encapsulate the perfect combination of manliness and sensitivity. Jaime Lannister was the kind of guy who should be posing on the cover of trashy Harlequin novels." A prequel of sorts to friday night and the lights are low.
1. Fluorescent Jeans

**Fluorescent Jeans**

**SUMMARY: **1: Theon doesn't care what you think. Loras Tyrell is fashion in motion and he'll be damned if he doesn't cash in on any of that. Modern AU in the "friday night" universe.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Hello everyone! This is the first oneshot of (hopefully) many. I've got the next few already written. This will be sporadically updated. I'm hoping to start on another multi-chap sometime in the future, but for now I want to work on this.

It's not necessary that you read **friday night and the lights are low** before you read this, but it's recommended because these ficlets are based on some of the one-liners from that story.

Anyways, this is for everyone who wanted the fic about Theon's jeans. So that's **AuroreMartell**, **abbymaie **and **silver-nightstorm **(I'm just going by what you guys said in your very kind reviews. Which I am immensely grateful for by the way.) If I didn't include your name, I'm apologize. This is for everyone who's interested in the jeans, basically.

Enjoy and leave a review if you want me to continue!

* * *

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Jon Stark—nicknamed Jon Snow because Renly Baratheon was a self-proclaimed artistic genius who enjoyed ruining other people's lives for his craft—sighed. "No Theon. I am not seeing what you're seeing."

"Are _you_ seeing what I'm seeing, Robb?"

Robb Stark, glancing up from the brightly lit screen of his phone where he had been secretly texting his girlfriend, stared in the general direction of Theon's pointing finger. "I can't see a thing. This place is too dark."

"This kegger was such a bad idea," complained Jon. "We should've just stayed at home and watched that stupid soap opera Robb's so crazy about."

"Gossip Girl is _not _a soap opera! And I only watch it because Sansa likes it!"

"Nice save," snorted his brother sarcastically.

"Guys!" Theon waved his arms frantically. "You guys aren't paying attention to me! Look!"

Robb and Jon exchanged exasperated looks. "We're looking." They said, monotone.

"It's _Loras Tyrell_, you guys!"

"Don't tell me you're into guys now."

"Even if you were," Robb gave Jon a dirty look, "we would still accept you for who you are because we're your brothers and we love you."

"Don't look at him!" Theon yelled. "Look at who he's with!"

"A bunch of girls; yes Theon, we have eyes. Why are you freaking out?"

"Because he's _Loras Tyrell. _He's about as manly as Jon pre-puberty and he still manages to pick up the hottest chicks!"

"Do you have any idea how offensive that was to Jon and the entire female race?"

"That's not the point," Theon waggled a finger in front of Jon's narrowed eyes. "Look at what he's wearing and then look at the girls who're with him!"

"He's wearing neon green jeans," pointed out Robb. "And a purple fedora. That's hardly special. I have a pair of pants just like that, but perhaps a little less…"

"Fabulous?"

"Obnoxious?"

"…bright," Robb concluded happily.

"Yeah, so he's with some hot girls," Jon said. "Big deal. I'm sure that if we tried, we could get hot girls too."

"Jon, you shouldn't lie." Robb shook his head disapprovingly. "Fabricating the truth will only make you look foolish in the end."

"Imagine the kind of hot girls we'd get it if we dressed like Loras!" Theon mused, not paying attention to the growing anger emanating from Jon. "I could totally pull off neon skinny jeans!"

"Theon, I think you're getting the wrong idea. Even if we do get hot girls, I don't think they're going to like us for the reasons you think they will."

"Jon, Jon, Jon." Theon shook his head disappointingly. "Girls like guys who have good dress sense."

"Theon has a point." Robb nodded. "If I were a girl, I wouldn't want to hang around guys who looked like their mothers dressed them."

"Exactly!" Theon shouted.

"Theon," Jon warned. "I don't like where you're going with this. And Robb, you're being a complete hypocrite. You know mom dressed you up until junior high."

"I like Theon's idea!" Robb shot his hand up in the air. "That sounds interesting."

"Alright!" Jon threw his hands up. "I give up. This is going to blow up in your faces."

"You're going to come crawling to us for advice when you see all the hot chicks we'll be attracting."

Jon sighed exasperatedly. "You guys are going to get so friend-zoned, I don't know whether to make fun of you or genuinely feel bad."

"Theon, you're a genius."

"I know—wait don't you already have a girlfriend?"

Robb laughed nervously. "Of course! I'm just saying that it's a good idea. Nothing to fret over."

"That sounds ominous."

"I'm surprised you know what that means."

"We can't all be smart like you, Jon."

"Yeah well no one said you had to be stupid either. It's not one or the other."

Just then, Loras Tyrell passed by where the boys sat, looking irritatingly smug. Raising his red plastic cup, he made eye contact with Theon and winked; a smirk was present on his way-too-pretty-to-be-a-boy face.

"Hey Loras!" Robb shouted over the din, waving wildly.

"Robb! I'm so glad you guys could manage to take time out of your busy schedules to attend my little shindig," Loras greeted in kind. Stopping in front of the table, he bid his bevy of girls farewell; they sulked as he waved them away. "How are you fellows?"

"We're fantastic! We were just talking about you actually. Theon said—!" Robb wheezed as Theon elbowed him in the gut.

"Why'd you leave those girls?" Theon asked.

"You probably won't understand, but it gets so tiring having to entertain several ladies at once." Loras flipped his hair and pulled his presumably ringing cell out of his pocket.

Theon fumed; Robb and Jon had to practically constrain him in order to prevent a fight.

"Well, it looks like I'm needed elsewhere." Loras stood up and waved goodbye to the boys. "I'll see you fellows later." He swaggered off, tipping an invisible hat to every giggling girl who stared at him for too long.

"I hate that guy," Theon seethed.

"He has a way with the ladies." Robb murmured admiringly.

"I don't understand how you guys can't see how uninterested in girls he is," Jon muttered to himself.

"That does it," Theon thumped a hand on his chest. "I am going to buy myself a pair of pants just like Loras."

"I think I'll pass on this one. Sorry Theon," Robb said apologetically. "I actually like the clothing that mother buys for me."

"I'm definitely not doing this." Jon shook his head.

"You guys are just wimps," cowed Theon. "Girls are going to be all over me!"

_One week later._

"Theon, I really like your jeans!" Sansa gushed, clasping her hands excitedly. "Where did you get them?"

"Thank you Sansa. It has always been my dream that a teenage girl would appreciate my taste in fashion."

From where he was sitting on the family couch, Jon laughed out loud. "How did the pants work out for you, Theon?"

Theon puffed out his chest. "I got hit on."

"By whom? What crazy girl would hit on a guy who looks like he shoved himself into his little sister's jeans?" Jon asked, mouth agape.

"By Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell!" Robb chimed in helpfully.

"Robb!" Theon threw a couch pillow which Robb managed to avoid. "I thought you said you weren't going to tell!"

Jon could barely hold in his laughter. Doubling over, he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Don't say it," Theon warned. "Don't you dare say—!"

"I told you so!"

Theon let out a girlishly high-pitched shriek of rage and proceeded to stomp his way upstairs and into his room.

"Don't slam your door!" Their mother called from the kitchen. In the living room, Jon was laughing to the point where no sound was coming out of his mouth.

"Are you sure those pants aren't too tight?"


	2. Jon the Exorcist

**Jon the Exorcist**

**SUMMARY: **2: It's just like the plot of any classic devil-possessing movie. You have your victim, your religious fanatic, your spunky WonderTwins, and your sketchy exorcist who swears he's licensed. Oh yeah. Except for the fact that nobody's actually possessed.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **So here's another oneshot. It's a little random and disjointed, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy and leave a review if you want me to keep posting more of these drabble-y things!

(I may or may not have a Christmas one in the works. Perhaps. If I get enough feedback, I may decide to continue with it because it's currently kicking me in the butt.)

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own anything. Except for Theon's jeans. Ehh...maybe not even that.

* * *

The walls of Jon's room were plastered with photos of him and Ygritte. Some of them depicted the couple doing typical couple things, while others catered to Ygritte's love of nature and hiking in the wilderness.

At Jon's desk sat Theon Greyjoy, searching fruitlessly for a box of tissues while Robb Stark, another one of Jon's brothers, sat next to him on the bed, awkwardly patting his shoulder.

"It's okay Jon. You'll get through this," Robb comforted.

Jon made a non-committal noise, burying his head into pillow even further.

"Tell Jon not to do that," Theon warned. "He'll suffocate."

"Shhuttt uuppp," Jon groaned. "Go away. I want to be alone."

"We can't leave you alone when you're like this," Robb said. "We're your brothers."

"Yeah," chimed in Theon. "We may not always get along, but we got your back."

Robb stared up at Theon admiringly. "That's possibly the nicest thing I've ever heard you say."

"That'll be the only nice thing you hear me say," he retorted.

A sniff caught their attention. Jon was crying again.

"Theon, did you find the tissues?"

"No! How is it that a teenage boy _doesn't _have a box of tissues lying around in their room? Jon, are you asexual?"

"Theon, we're trying to console his dampened spirit, not hurt him. Ygritte's already hurt him enough."

"I never liked her anyways, that girl. She seemed like such an uppity bitch."

"Although I may have to attend confession for speaking ill of others, I do think she was quite pretentious."

"She was quite pretentious," Theon mocked Robb's voice. "She was a fugging bitch. Every chance she got, she was always talking about how things were done where she was from, and how her customs were so much better than ours. Stupid hippie."

"Ygritte was amazing!" Jon defended angrily, his face streaked with tears. "I'm the one that's stupid."

"Jon, you are…er…" Robb stroked his beardless chin contemplatively. "How do I say this?"

"Aren't we supposed to be comforting him?" Theon pointed out.

Robb looked worried. "I'm not sure how to go about doing this," he admitted.

"Are you kidding me? You're the one who suggested this!"

"I didn't know he would be in such a state," Robb's hand hovered over Jon's slumped shoulders, not sure what to do. "Do you want me to rub your back?" He asked. "Mother used to do that when we were upset."

"Gerroff me!" Jon shrugged off his brother's semi-hug.

"Don't you have some weird Church thing you can take Jon to?" Theon suggested offhandedly. "Maybe he'll find some hot religious girl and get over that hippie chick."

"Your language is atrocious, but that's not entirely a bad idea." Robb agreed.

"Or I could take him to the secret hangout."

"That would not solve anything," scolded Robb.

"What'd you say?" Theon asked Jon. "Want to go to a place where you have to line up and pray for alcohol, or do you want to go to Robb's church?"

"I'll go with—"

"No!" Robb shook his head. "You are not taking him to that place! He needs to go somewhere to receive healing! Let's flip a coin."

"Why don't we let Jon choose?"

"Jon is not in the right state of mind to choose!" Robb shouted. "He's just had his heart stomped on by the woman he loves," he plowed on, ignorant of Jon's brooding. "He is upset and depressed and he needs some time away from that woman in order to move past this tremendously sad event!"

"I think you just made start him crying again."

"Oh dear."

* * *

"How was Mass, dear?" Catelyn asked her two sons as they walked in the door. "Jon, Theon told me that Robb volunteered to take you to one of the sermons. Did you enjoy it?"

Jon, being supported by Robb as his breakup had rendered him temporarily immobile, mumbled a response.

"What was that?" Catelyn asked. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Jon is just in awe of Jesus' glory," Robb confessed. "To be honest, I was like that too at first."

"Well I hope he gets better much quicker than you did," Catelyn said, her smile somewhat strained as she recalled the first time Robb had gone to church.

"I have no doubt that Jon will aspire to join me in the worship of our Lord," Robb said, beaming.

Catelyn's smile began to resemble a painful grimace. "Of course," she agreed through clenched teeth.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I was supposed to be praying ten minutes ago." Shrugging his brother off his shoulder, Robb left Jon on the kitchen floor and ran into his room.

"Robb, watch where you leave your brother!"

* * *

"Boys! It's dinner time!"

Theon grumbled and got out of his bed where he had been enjoying an afternoon nap. Sneaking a glance at the clock, he swore under his breath when he realized he'd slept in by at least an hour.

"Theon! Theon, come down for dinner!"

"Coming!" He yelled back, his voice cracking from lack of use. He looked around his room and paused when his gaze met the empty wall above his desk. He didn't remember putting up five posters of Jesus Christ. He sighed. It was probably a practical joke or something. Maybe it was Jon? Probably Jon. Possibly even Arya. They enjoyed bothering the hell out of everyone and then being so lovable, it was impossible to hate them.

Pulling a shirt he'd stolen from Robb (or was it Jon?) on, Theon sluggishly dragged himself out of his room and down the stairs into the warmly lit kitchen.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," Arya said, a hint of a smirk on her face.

Theon glared in response and picked up his fork.

"Have you noticed anything different about your room?" Jon asked. His face was curiously blank, save for his glittering eyes.

"Uhhh," Theon paused in thought. "Nope."

"Oh," Jon said, disappointed. "I was hoping my addition to your décor was…_heavenly_." He chuckled to himself.

Sansa exchanged glances with Arya who rolled her eyes.

"Don't be so weird," said Sansa.

"Yeah, what she said." Arya agreed.

"Theon, you didn't even help us with dinner," Bran pointed out accusingly. "Even Jon helped."

Theon dropped his fork. "Jon helped?" He said in surprise, motioning toward the figure in black at the end of the table.

"Jon is a fantastic cook," Robb voiced his approval. "It's as if each meal he makes channels the Holy Spirit."

"I'm eating food cooked by a ghost?" Rickon shrieked.

"No Rickon," Robb smiled at his youngest brother. "The Holy Spirit is the flame that burns brightly within each of us. It is like Jesus."

Rickon excitedly picked his utensils up. "So the Holy Spirit is fire?"

"Rickon," Catelyn said warningly. "No fire. Mommy said fire is dangerous. No more fire. And don't encourage him, Robb."

"So the Holy Spirit isn't fire?"

"No fire!"

In the midst of their arguing, Theon had been slowly taking bites of his food. Suddenly, he spat out a mouthful of meatloaf.

"Ewww!" Sansa screeched. "You spat on me!"

"Gross!" Arya scooted away as far as possible. "Ugh, that's disgusting."

"Theon," Ned reached a concerned hand toward him. "Theon, are you alright?"

Theon reached for his glass of water and began chugging. When he'd finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Garlic!"

"What about garlic?" Bran asked.

"There's garlic in my meatloaf!"

"There's garlic in everybody's meatloaf," Catelyn informed.

"There are _gigantic chunks_ of garlic in my meatloaf!"

"Mom," Sansa's voice trailed off. "Did you put huge cloves of garlic in the meatloaf? I can't eat too much garlic. It makes my skin smell."

"And I can't stand the taste!" Arya chimed in.

"I put in a little garlic," Catelyn replied. "But I ground all the garlic I put in."

"I apologize." Jon said. "I must have forgotten to crush the garlic in Theon's share."

"But I don't make meatloaf like that."

"I thought Theon liked the taste of garlic," continued Jon in an eerie voice. "So I added extra for a little kick so I suppose you could say the taste was…_hell raising._" He then burst into maniacal laughter.

Everyone stared at him.

"Ah-hem," Jon cleared his throat. "I'll just excuse myself. I've homework to do."

* * *

In the middle of the night, Theon woke up in a fit of panic. He had had an awful dream where he turned against the Starks and tried to kill sweet Bran and admittedly crazy Rickon. Now he had the weirdest urge to seek out his little foster brothers and hug them and watch Disney movies together or something.

Shivering to himself, he swung his feet off the bed and let them touch the floor. Oddly enough, there was a crunching sensation on the soles of his feet, almost like he was standing on tiny bits of gravel. He looked down.

"WHAT THE HELL?"

Everyone came running to his room at that point.

"What's wrong?" Ned asked.

"Theon, are you alright?" Catelyn's hair was still in curlers.

"What's all the yelling about?" Bran rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Where's the fire?" Rickon looked way too awake for someone who'd just woken up.

"Why'd you have to wake everybody up?" Sansa groaned.

"If it was a robber, I'll stick him with the pointy end!" Arya had somehow procured a baseball bat. Her parents made a mental note to comb her room for other weapons later.

"Jesus will absolve you of all your fears and let you sleep in peace!" Robb's voice echoed throughout the house…and presumably the neighbourhood.

"There is salt everywhere!" Theon yelled.

"Not everywhere," corrected Bran. "Just in a circle around your bed."

"Is that supposed to make him feel better?" Arya whispered.

"It looks like some sort of ritual," added Sansa. The three kids immediately turned to Robb.

"It wasn't me," he confessed.

"If it wasn't Robb," Ned mused, "then who was it?"

"Can we focus less on who did it and more on why someone decided to sprinkle SALT AROUND MY BED?" Theon yelled, waving his arms around for emphasis. "I'm a little freaked out right now!"

"I heard that you do that to get rid of demons," said Bran.

Theon grabbed him by the shoulders. "Where did you hear that?"

Bran wiggled out of his grip. "I can't remember if it was a book or a tv show."

Robb walked over to Theon's desk. "Why are all my Jesus posters in your room, Theon? I don't remember putting them here."

Theon shrugged. "I have no idea."

"How are we going to clean this up?" Catelyn asked, throwing her hands up. "This is such a mess."

"Well I hope Sansa and Bran are up to the job! I'm going back to bed." Arya briskly backtracked out of the room, baseball bat concealed behind her. "Goodnight everyone!"

"Err…me too!" Ned followed his daughter. "I've got to wake up early for work."

"I have a big test tomorrow," Bran slowly walked away.

"Early morning choir practice!" Sansa practically ran.

"It's way past my bedtime," Rickon yawned.

Catelyn looked at Theon. "The brooms are in the closet downstairs."

"What?" Theon said, flabbergasted. "Nobody's helping me? Guys!"

* * *

"Good morning family!" An overly cheery Jon greeted. "Today is such a fine morning!"

Everyone at the table glared at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"Where were you last night?" Bran accused. "Didn't you hear the yelling?"

Jon froze at the counter where he'd been pouring tea. "Yelling?" He turned around to face Bran, a stiff smile on his face. "Why, I must have slept right through it."

"Theon found a ring of salt around his bed," Sansa added. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Jon laughed. "Well evil has a _habit _of taking action in the middle of the night."

Nobody else laughed.

"There's something on your shirt," Arya pointed out. She reached out and flicked white granules off the black cloth.

"Thank you, little lamb."

Arya looked horrified. "And I thought it was bad when Theon kept referring to me as his 'little wolf.'"

"Good morning," a grumpily sleepy Theon walked into the kitchen. His hair stuck up at all angles and he was still in his pajamas.

Jon hissed.

Everyone stared at him.

Theon turned around. "Can I help you?"

Jon backed away from Theon and took a small spray bottle filled with water out of his pocket.

"What's that—hey!"

"Should we stop them?" Sansa asked.

"Don't bother," said Bran, already bored with his older brothers' antics.

* * *

"Come in!" Arya lowered the volume on her speakers.

"Can I talk to you?" Sansa stood in the doorway.

"Yeah, sure."

Sansa sat on the bed, looking prim and proper and completely out of place in Arya's mess of a room. "It's about Jon."

"What about Jon?"

"Haven't you noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

Sansa lowered her voice. "He's been really weird lately."

Arya snorted. "Only lately?"

"Yeah," Sansa nodded, not picking up on Arya's sarcasm. "I mean, the garlic in the meatloaf, the salt in Theon's room—I know he never confessed to doing it, but it must have been him—and the religious puns? He's turning into Robb."

Arya burst out laughing. "No way. No one can be as bad as Robb."

Sansa shook her head. "No, I think Jon has surpassed Robb."

"I'm still not following you."

Sansa motioned for Arya to move closer. She whispered, "I think Jon wants to exorcise Theon."

"How did you even think of that?"

"It was what Bran said that tipped me off."

"Explain," Arya said, turning her speakers off entirely.

"Okay. So in vampire stories, they always say that vampires are weak to garlic. Jon put chunks of garlic in Theon's food. And Bran said that rings are salt are used to ward off demons. Jon put a ring of salt around Theon's bed in a perfect circle. Jon keeps using religious puns. Maybe he's trying to warn us."

Arya considered laughing at her sister, but thought about it. "And the Jesus pictures."

Sansa cocked her head. "Jesus pictures?"

"In Theon's room. He has a bunch of Jesus posters that he doesn't remembering putting up."

"Those probably symbolize the fact that Jesus is watching him or something."

Arya stared at Sansa. "I hope you don't agree with what Jon is doing."

Sansa flushed. "Of course not! I'm just trying to look at this from his point of view."

"You do realize we'll have to stop him, right?"

"How'll we do that?"

Arya thought about it for a moment. "I have no clue."

Sansa slumped. All of a sudden, her eyes lit up. "Robb."

* * *

Theon was enjoying a good night's sleep. His pillow was cool, he was wearing his lucky socks, and the weird dream catcher thing Bran had made for him in the third grade must have been working.

In his closet, Arya and Sansa waited. They had a feeling Jon might try to make another salt ring around Theon's bed and they wanted to catch him in the act.

Sansa clutched her walkie talkie. Earlier, she and Arya had convinced Robb that if they called him via walkie talkie, he would immediately come to Theon's room to witness something "miraculous." Their reasoning made very little sense, but luckily Robb was gullible.

Arya pulled on Sansa's arm and pointed out the slightly opened door. A figure robed in black and carrying a satchel was stealthily making its way toward Theon's bed. Arya motioned toward Sansa's walkie talkie. Sansa hushed her, wanting to see what the figure was going to do.

It knelt at the foot at Theon's bed and opened its bag. Sansa heard the clinking of glass bottles. Slowly, the figure pulled out a bag of salt and began pouring it around Theon's bed. When it was done, it uncorked the glass bottles, letting it drip around the circle. Sansa assumed it was holy water.

Leaning over Theon, the figure took off its hood. Although Sansa knew who it was, she was still surprised to see that Jon was the figure in the black robes.

"Should we call Robb?" Arya whispered.

"No, not yet." Sansa replied. "Jon hasn't done anything yet."

Arya frowned at her, but nodded. They returned to watching Jon. He raised one of the bottles…and emptied its contents over Theon's head.

Theon awoke with a sputter. "Wha—?"

"Foul demon!" Jon spread his arms. "You belong in the depths of Hell! I know not who has summoned thee, but know that I will banish you from this Earth! Theon, if you can still hear me in there, I will exorcise the demon and you can return to your normal self!"

"Arya, no!"

Arya burst out of the closet and launched herself at Jon. Screaming a savage war cry, she barrelled into his stomach, forcing him to the floor. "I've got him, I've got him! Call Robb!"

With shaky fingers, Sansa activated the walkie-talkie.

"Hurry up! I can't hold him down forever!"

"You cretin! You have enslaved my little sisters! I will destroy you!"

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Theon said groggily.

"Robb! Robb, come to Theon's room! It's the secret thing we told you about!" Sansa spoke rapidly into the device.

Robb immediately came rushing in.

"That was quick," Sansa murmured under her breath.

"What's happening? Where's that secret thing?" Robb was panting heavily, his eyes wide and excited. Then he saw Theon covered in water, Arya wrestling Jon to the ground, and Sansa looking panicked.

"We can explain," Sansa said.

"It's Jon!" Arya added. "He's gone nuts!"

"Jon is trying to exorcise Theon!" Sansa elaborated. "That's why he put the garlic in Theon's food and poured the salt around his bed."

"And the Jesus pictures!"

"Wait," Theon cut them off. "Jon thought I was possessed? Is that why he dumped water on my head?"

"It was holy water, you cowardly creature of darkness!" Jon said, his yell muffled by the carpet.

"Arya, let him go." Robb picked his sister off the floor. "And you," he said, glaring at Jon. "What's gotten into you?"

Jon stood up, his hair a bird's nest. "It was the Church you took me to. It opened my mind. All of a sudden, I understood why there was so much evil in the world. It is my duty to clean our world."

"Jon." Robb took his brother by the shoulders and shook him. "I'm afraid that you've become _an extremist_."

All of a sudden, it felt like all the air was sucked out of the room.

Jon choked. "You're calling me an extremist?"

Robb nodded solemnly. "I'm sad to say so, but your devotion to Jesus has far outstripped mine and it's becoming dangerous. You should consider taking a break."

"You're calling me an extremist?" Jon repeated, his voice almost a squeak.

Arya and Sansa looked over at each other with expressions of identical shock. Theon was still trying to process why most of his siblings were in his room at 3AM in the morning.

"An extremist?" Jon said again, this time in a whisper.

"I think it's time we all go to bed," Robb said. "Come on everybody."

They left Theon's room, not bothering to clean up the mess Jon had left behind.

"Really you guys? Honestly? You've leaving me to clean up alone, again?"

* * *

"Good morning Jon."

"Hn."

"Have we returned to normal now?"

"I refuse to talk about it."

"I can't believe Robb called you an extremist."

"Shut up Theon."

"I am never going to let you live this down."

"...I hate you."


	3. Squid

**Squid**

**SUMMARY: **3: "Jaime Lannister was everything Theon had ever wanted to be. He was a ladies' man, he was athletic, and he had flowing blond hair that managed to encapsulate the perfect combination of manliness and sensitivity. In other words, Jaime Lannister was the kind of guy who should have been posing on the front of trashy Harlequin novels rather than spend time amongst the lesser attractive individuals of King's Landing."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** It's been a while since I last updated! I just finished exams, so now I can focus on writing more.

I'm not super proud of this particular ficlet. I just wanted some Jaime and this ended up as the result. It's not as funny as the other ones, but I hope you enjoy and leave a review!

Oh and I'm starting a new project. Haven't figured out a title yet, but I will as soon as possible. It will also be a Modern AU and it will be a bit of a crack!fic. The main character this time is going to be Bran. Can't give away too much, but I will tell you that it also involves the Reed siblings, Margaery Tyrell, and perhaps Quentyn Martell. I hope to start posting chapters for that maybe next week (if the creative bug bites).

* * *

To Theon Greyjoy, who had grown up in the Stark household, Ned Stark had been the epitome of everything awesome about the world, rolled up into one tall, slightly intimidating package.

Then, he had met Jaime Lannister.

Junior high had been torturous for Theon. Sure, he had his two foster-brothers and they were pretty decent guys but they weren't exactly very cool. Jon was girly looking with his shoulder length, curly black hair that he refused to trim. Robb had braces; they were glow-in-the-dark blue with matching elastics that he loved to take out at the dinner table. And they were a year younger than Theon.

Then again, it wasn't like he was any cooler. Theon was tall for his age and not very coordinated. It was as if he hadn't gotten used to his growth spurt, resulting in utter klutziness and a prompt rejection from nearly every sports team, save for swimming.

Jaime Lannister was everything Theon had ever wanted to be. He was a ladies' man, he was athletic, and he had flowing blond hair that managed to encapsulate the perfect combination of manliness and sensitivity. In other words, Jaime Lannister was the kind of guy who should have been posing on the front of trashy Harlequin novels rather than spend time amongst the lesser attractive individuals of King's Landing.

One day, Theon had been rushing to get to his locker right after history when someone crashed into him from behind, sending them sprawling across the freshly waxed linoleum.

"Watch where you're going, dweeb!" An angry female voice screeched.

Theon looked up and was greeted by the sight of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. With her cascading golden curls, eyes like emeralds, and a perfectly proportioned body, Cersei Lannister was a sight to behold. Too bad her temper was horrendous and she was oddly protective of her twin brother.

"It's okay, Cersei." Jaime consoled, grasping her by the arm and helping her to get to her feet. "He didn't mean to do that."

Theon was speechless. Here were the golden twins of King's Landing Secondary School. Royalty in their own right, they had once ruled the school with an iron fist and stunningly gorgeous good looks. Though they had graduated quite a few years ago, stories of their rather infamous deeds were still spread throughout the student body.

"I'm sorry." Theon's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he repeated in a deeper voice, hoping that one of the Lannister siblings would acknowledge him as something other than a puny freshman in their way.

"He said sorry, Cersei," Jaime said. "It was just an accident."

Tossing her hair over one glorious shoulder, Cersei cast Theon a dismissive look and stalked off without Jaime.

"She seems angry," Theon commented lightly and then silently swore. He hoped that he hadn't offended Jaime.

"It's not your fault," Jaime laughed. "She's always like this."

Theon smiled nervously. "I have sisters too," he said in a desperate attempt to perpetuate the conversation.

"You're very lucky then. It's always nice to have siblings."

Theon grimaced, thinking of Sansa always in princess outfits and Arya who had reached a phase where she ran around the house yelling and brandishing a stick. Theon still had the bruises.

"I'm Jaime by the way," Jaime held out his hand for Theon to shake. Theon shook with clammy hands, pretending not to notice how Jaime subtly wiped his hands down the front of his probably designer jeans.

"I'm Theon," he responded in kind.

"Theon? No, I don't like Theon."

Theon felt petrified.

"No, I'm going to have to think of a nickname for you. I'm going to call you Squid."

"Squid?" Theon was confused.

"Squid," Jaime confirmed. "If only you had seen yourself fall." He chuckled lowly.

Theon joined in Jaime's laughter, not sure whether to feel offended or pleased that he was on such familiar terms with one of the Lannisters.

"Well Squid, I think you should be getting to class. I'll see you around."

Jaime then walked down the hall. Theon stared at his retreating back, swearing to every god he knew that he would one day be just as cool as Jaime Lannister and give slightly insulting nicknames to every freshman who tripped his sister.

(Think the story's over? Not quite. You see, Theon would go on to quietly worship Jaime Lannister, attending all the football games at his university, and going so far as to attempt to make the team. No, the most interesting part of Theon's story has yet to occur.)

Just like every star athlete, Jaime Lannister had a lucky charm. If you didn't know the story behind it, you'd thought it was pathetic for a man to tote around a golden lion keychain. Then again, you probably just didn't know Jaime Lannister and how that little trinket was a gift from his now-deceased mother.

And just like in every clichéd movie, Jaime happened to have misplaced the keychain right before one of the biggest games of his university career.

And just like every clichéd, whiny, spoiled, trust-fund baby who just so happened to have a penchant for football, Jaime refused to play without the keychain hanging from his bag like it normally did.

* * *

"I'm not playing without it!"

"Jaime, it's a bloody keychain!" Coach Barristan Selmy groaned. "Can't you play without it?"

Jaime shook his head. "I at least need to know where it is."

"Jaime my boy," Coach Selmy sighed. "There're going to be scouts out there. This game will either make you or break you and I want you to do well."

"I know," Jaime whispered. "But I need to find it. Please."

Coach Selmy regarded him doubtfully.

"It'll only take a little while," Jaime pressed. "I'll be back before the game even starts."

Selmy slapped a hand to his balding head. "Fine," he conceded. "But hurry up!"

Jaime practically threw himself off the beach and ran out into the crisp autumn air. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"

* * *

Nearby, Theon was walking through the parking lot, hoping to get good seats at the game before it started. At the request of their mother, Jon and Robb had accompanied him.

"Is this going to take long?" Jon asked moodily. "I don't want to stay for so long. Football players are stupid."

"Can we get ice cream after this?" Robb asked. "Mom doesn't let me have ice cream and I want some."

"Shut up," Theon said angrily.

"Don't tell me to shut up," Jon shot back. "I hate this. I want to go home. I have homework to do."

"Writing crappy poetry about your feelings doesn't count as real homework!"

"At least I can write poetry, Mr. Tuba-Player!"

"Well—well you're a stupid face!"

"Shut up."

"Says the boy who went to band camp."

"We all went to band camp, Jon!"

"Shut up!"

"I'm telling dad on you, Robb!"

"Well I'm telling mom!"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, WILL THE TWO OF YOU JUST SHUT UP?" Theon yelled at his brothers.

They stared at him, wide-eyed. And then Theon saw it; it was just a flash of gold on the concrete. Picking it up, he looked at it closely. It was a keychain and hanging off of it was a cool-looking gold lion. Or, it would have been cool if the lion wasn't a little plush toy.

"Ew, Theon!" Robb inched away from him. "Don't pick stuff off the ground. That's gross!"

"He can do whatever he wants to do," Jon contradicted. "He's a teenager, stupid."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Yes you are."

"No!"

"Who got 40% on his math test? Couldn't have been me. I got almost 100."

"No you didn't, Jon! Stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Do you two ever stop fighting?" Theon snapped, still holding the keychain between his thumb and forefinger. Finally, Robb and Jon ceased their arguing, standing on either side of Theon and glaring.

"Goddammnit."

"Theon, no swearing," Robb scolded.

"I'm not swearing," Theon said. "Jon, was that you?"

"No."

Theon's eyes swept over the parking lot. There was nobody there but—oh wait. There was somebody there. Behind the tinted windows of a red Ferrari, Theon could see somebody.

"Where the heck is it?" The same voice asked.

The voice was familiar. Who was it?

"Crap, Selmy's going to kill me."

Cautiously walking toward the car, Theon called out a tense, "Hello?"

The figure started and bumped its head. "Owch, dammnit. Oh hi there. Do I know you?"

"Hi Jaime Lannister," Theon greeted.

"Hello small child," Jaime reciprocated awkwardly. "Are you lost? Would you like me to call your parents for you or something?"

"No!" Theon said, slightly offended. "No, I just came to watch the game with my brothers."

"You're Squid!"

"Theon, actually. My name is Theon Greyjoy."

"Are these kids your brothers?" Jaime asked.

Theon nodded. "This is Jon and the one curled up on the ground in fetal position is Rob—JON WHY IS ROBB CURLED UP ON THE GROUND IN FETAL POSITION?"

Jon shrugged. "S'not my fault he can't duck."

Jaime laughed. "Cute kids. Listen, have you seen a keychain around here? It has a little stuffed lion hanging off it."

"And if I have?"

Jaime chuckled nervously. "Uhh…it belongs to my sister. She's really attached to it and if I don't find it, she'll…she'll throw a fit I guess?"

"You mean this keychain?" Theon held up the trinket he'd found earlier.

"LIONEL!" Jaime nearly shrieked. "Uh, I mean, thank you." He cleared his throat.

"Hey," Theon pointed at Jaime. "Shouldn't you be warming up for the game?"

"Oh crap!" Jaime slapped a hand to his forehead. "Selmy's going to put my head on a platter! Thanks for finding my—I mean my sister's keychain!"

"You're welcome," Theon called out as Jaime jogged away.

"Is that Jaime Lannister?" A rather roughed up looking Robb asked, sounding a little in awe.

"Yep."

"And he knows your name?"

"Well," Theon scratched his chin, "not exactly, but he's pretty close."

"He seems so cool," Robb said dreamily.

Theon laughed. Jaime Lannister was the coolest guy he'd ever met. Too bad he was a crap liar.

_Mini-Epilogue_

Of course King's Landing University would go on to win that game. Everyone would cheer for Jaime Lannister, branding him their hero and golden boy.

And of course Jaime would get scouted. Did you really expect anything less for a Lannister?

But what no one else knows is that Jaime Lannister attributes that particular victory to a certain squid.

(Well maybe the squid does know. It's hard not to when Jaime Lannister shows up at your school the next day and calls you his new best friend in front of everyone, cementing your now-celebrity status.)


End file.
